Monster, I Am
by RiptideZ
Summary: Going defunct. Moving to Memoir of 117.
1. The Monster Within

_**Alright here is the reimagined one shot from my expanded Halo Universe, all rights reserved to Microsoft and other shareholders of the Halo Brand. Monster is a single chapter tale, a short novel on what the Spartans could have been. It should be understood that they are as human as the rest of us, and this tale fits the whole "Finding Humanity" for Spartans that 343 is currently trying to pull off with Halo 4 onward. This isn't the Master Chief's story.**_

_**This is the story of a Spartan III from Gamma Company and he isn't happy with his place in the universe. He isn't a special individual, they treat him like a number. And somewhere along the way, he went over the deep end. He wasn't a Spartan any longer, he was Human, and by becoming what Spartans were never meant to become, he became an anomaly, a nightmare, a Monster. His name is Dakota and this is a scene from his life; a tale of death and pain. He's only human, but it's his Humanity that created the beast everyone else sees.**_

_**This is essentially a prologue to a later project I'm considering, titled "Human or Demon." This is an introduction piece meant to reveal this character. Please read and review, I'm going through an update and rewrite phase in my stories right now, I promise to get back to the other tales and continue their growth soon. Thanks for the support guys, keep on reading and reviewing.**_

_…_

_Welcome to RiptideZ's "Monster," a non-profit fan-produced fiction product under the ownership of set penname: RiptideZ._

_DISCLAIMER:_

_All copyrighted items mentioned or used in this work belongs to their rightful owners at 343 Industries, Microsoft, and other brands mentioned below or later under terms of Fair Use. The author only owns their own creations. This author is an adamant supporter of Constructive Criticism, please read and review, be mindful however, this author will delete your comment if it is considered of ill-intent or overstated such as being already stated more than a few times. If anything is wrong with the writing piece, contact RiptideZ through the Review section, or Instant Messaging."_

…

_Chapter 1: Monster, I Am_

_Words: 6305_

_Franchise: Halo_

…

**"**_**The finest Spartans ever."**_– Lieutenant Commander Kurt-051 'Ambrose' Trevelyan (2511-2552), recording his thoughts on the Spartan III Company: GAMMA.

…

"Please state your name for the record." The smooth, feminine but distinctly robotic voice of an Artificial Intelligence woke one young man from his pain-induced slumber. A black, ballistic nylon sack had been thrown over his head; he saw nothing but black as he came too.

His voice hoarse, he spoke groggily, "Spartan 242, Dakota…" he paused. "Gamma Company."

The Spartan, Dakota G242, shook his head in an effort to remove the leathery bag from his face to no avail.

He attempted to move his hands and found them pinned in place on what felt like a pair of armrests, he could not be for sure however, the familiar feeling of his ragged clothes and his exoskeleton, a heavily modified set of power armor made it difficult. His arms were restrained; he attempted several more times to move them but heard a sturdy rattle of metal clamps against metallic wrists suggested he wasn't going to power his way through.

A pair of nearby feet, the sound of a pair of combat boots sweeping across the ground, moved toward him. They stopped short and suddenly the bag came off. Dakota was blinded by light, more than he had seen at once in the last few years.

His genetically modified eyes quickly adjusted to the lighting but the bright light still made it impossible to see his surroundings. All he managed to figure out was that he was bolted down in a chair; there was a titanium table in front of him, one likely equipped with interactive holograms, and a strobe light that made flash bangs bearable.

He squinted his eyes and as an afterthought, he bit at the air at which he felt the quick hand remove the sack from his face. A gust of wind nearby suggested a person moving out of the way. Oh well, at least he tried.

"Spartan G242, how far you've fallen?" Another voice, feminine, one that sounded soft and mellow on a regular day, was made of ice and steel in this scenario, asked from behind the blinding light.

"What do you call yourself? You certainly aren't a Spartan anymore. Either way, I have an interview to take before we send you to Midnight, let's start shall we?" The woman's voice stated without breaking the emotion barrier.

"Oh, you can start by playing your whole good cop, bad cop routine. You know, maybe bring in some donuts. Ask me if I want some. Maybe I'll say yes; and just when I'm about to take my first bite you knock it out of my hand and start your whole rant phase. You know, the one where you grow horns and a speared tail?" Dakota replied grinning predatorily.

He grimaced with a major hint of sarcasm, he spoke on, "That would be hypothetical if you even removed my arms from these clamps. I mean you people went through a lot of trouble to restrain me. I should feel honored, where did you do your furniture shopping? I appreciate the hospitality."

The young Spartan shook his arms for effect. He attempted successfully to move his legs as well; they moved. At least his lower limbs were free.

The pair of combat boots shuffled again, the owner likely fidgeting to get at him for his snarky remarks.

"Shut your trap, maggot." A male voice, the woman's partner spoke with disdain. "You're a fugitive and a murderer, you don't deserve anything but a bullet between your pupils and an unmarked grave."

"You going to read me my rights, officer? I don't seem to be in an unmarked grave right now."

"As far as I can tell, you don't have a single one."

The room became silent as Dakota attempted to get a look at his interrogators. They remained behind the high-power strobe, waiting in the shadows as they prepared to give him everything.

Dakota, bored, yawned for effect. If he was going to die here, the chances of death by boredom was getting exponentially higher.

The pair of interrogators, likely Naval Intelligence, Dakota assumed, were muttering to one another out of earshot. Even low enough that even with his heightened senses, the Spartan III still failed to hear.

"I'm going to start." The woman stated, the sound of her own combat boots echoed as she approached closer to the front of the table.

The detainee stared off in the direction of where he thought the woman was, he was still essentially blind with the strobe light cutting off his vision of everything around him. He had to squint just to make out the two figures of people in the glare and inky black backdrop.

"Dakota Baudin, born 2538, on Tribute, the Springfield province." She spoke, her voice revealing no emotion but neutral concentration. "Your mother was a low-wage cyber division team manager for Sinovent Heavy Machinery. Your father was a member of the Springfield Militia, honorable public record, former Police Officer from Luna. You were an only child. You grew up in a lower middle class household, and were found to be sheltered from a young age."

"Frontier child, lived on the edge of the explored regions of Tribute's population limits. There is little information on your childhood, but physiological maps show you to be excessively… normal. Nothing special, no unusual behavior and nothing shocking about your background. You were just some kid living on the outskirts of society. That sound correct?"

"I don't remember anything beyond the day I was removed from the orphanage, I don't remember and I don't care." Dakota stated annoyed and mockingly yawned for the second time.

A grunt from the male interrogator was audible from the back of the room.

Dakota applied some more force into his restraints in attempt to move them. A low moan of metal was heard.

The man in the back spoke with restrained annoyance, "In my personal experience, I've never seen a single being escape those restraints. They were designed for the Spartan IIs during the augmentation process, I'm sure you're familiar since you went through the same. Don't think you can escape them, I've seen Brutes and Elites fail to break them, I doubt a petite, little Spartan like you could break out of them."

The Spartan III replied with silence.

"Shall I continue?" The woman asked. She continued without waiting for an answer.

"In 2544, your parents were in the next town, what was it? Getting groceries? Anyhow, at 1700 Military Standard on July 7th, 2544, your parents and 30 other civilians were gunned down by an insurrection affiliate, part of a group known as the "Armed Liberation Front." 24 hours after the bodies were identified and their families were notified, the colonial administration board had you and two other orphans moved to the Thompson-Jones State Orphanage. Two years later, a surge of orphans are moved to the Thompson Orphanage from off-world. Many of them freshly broken by the onslaught of the Covenant forces that had begun to sweep into the Inner Colonies."

"I remember, the fresh pain on the faces of the other kids, the fear; the anger. I was small and weak, and to cover their own feelings of helplessness, they turned their anger on me. I hated them…" Dakota muttered off remembering the bullies, orphans, survivors of the Covenant attacks from different colonies. He looked down and brooded.

"They picked on me. I fought back." He spoke after a few seconds, his electric-blue eyes glared up toward the voices ahead of him.

"We have that on record; you were quiet, small, unnoticed. It wasn't until a yard fight did you get forced into the spotlight. There's something in the record here about a struggle with two 12 year olds, they shoved you into the dirt. Then you threw yourself on top of one of them, and smashed your foot into his gut and following it with an attack on the other, an observational note said you tried to gouge out the eyes of the other boy…" A noticeable shudder was felt through the room.

"I did what I had to, I don't think my past actions really matter at this point." The Spartan said being frank. He could care less about the opinions of ONI.

"Your right, your actions before going AWOL completely overshadow your personality report. The recruiter, a single man, Dr. Fitz Lysander Grover, he watched you fight and said it inspired him, reminded of watching illegal dog fights in the slums on Mars before they were shut down. He chose you, a boy with no experience with aliens, no reason to fight for something more than yourself, and with your erratic personality, somehow you were signed fit for service." The woman said, a break in her voice suggested curiosity with cold undertones, likely hostility. She was like a predator, she looked on him like prey.

"The guy said I would be helping to fight for something more; he said I was fighting to protect Humanity. He said that my tragic life was something out of a fairy tale, called he a "tragic hero." I was an idiot for believing him."

The man chuckled quietly.

"Do you regret becoming a Spartan?"

"No, I regret what I've done to protect our "Humanity."

"You regret defending the weak and helpless?"

"No! I regret that I nearly killed Humans for the sake of Humanity's survival!" Dakota yelled and struggled to stand against his restraints. He still failed to budge.

"You people are a bunch of hypocrites; you make us out to be heroes, then when we get accommodated to our parameters, you guys tighten the leashes. We're aren't even human to you people: we're like pets, or worse, machines."

"You belong to ONI." The woman stated, pointing out his position as a prisoner-of-war and his conscription ticket paid generously by the ward of the Office of Naval Intelligence.

"I belong to no one!" The rogue Spartan yelled, generally angry revealing his degrading mental state. He shut up right there causing a pregnant silence to take form.

"…I'm not trying to piss you off kid, I'm just stating facts." The woman dismissed his claims and began her questions.

Dakota just nodded as if accepting the half-ass apology, it didn't seem the statement had phased him much. He was quick with the mood swings, the interrogators noticed he must have been off his medication for years.

"When you first arrived, what did you think of the other children?"

"I didn't. They were strangers, but ever since I fought the kids at the orphanage and before that, my parents' murder, I treated them all with detachment."

"What was your assessment on the Spartan III initation?"

"The one where we jumped out of the planes? Boring, I was, I think… 5th in my Pelican, I waited my turn and I jumped. End of story."

The woman did not look satisfied. "Your personal feelings, I don't care about the events; we already know all that, I want to know what you think, how you tick?"

"You going to dissect me or something?" Dakota replied with dark humor.

"…" The woman remained silent, only the breath of the three individuals of the room was heard quickly filling the room with tension.

"I'll take that as a no… I saw the kids to the front and back of me as simply people. I didn't care what happened to them. It was me or them, I would become a Spartan, and they wouldn't. I would survive, they wouldn't. I jumped. I saw one kid wet his pants and panicked. He never made it out the container bay. I think his name was Isaac or something. I didn't even flinch when the endless darkness came, I didn't care."

"Isaac King, a washout, he's currently serving with the Marines, ONI keeps a close eye on him as well."

"Yeah, I could care less, he was weak and I was strong."

"So a simple me versus them situation."

"Essentially."

"You weren't much of a people person in Gamma Company were you?"

"Nope." Dakota replied with ease, he blew a lock of hair out of his eyes lazily.

"You want to clarify on that?"

"Nope."

"I need your compliance if we're going to get this over with, and I need those answers. I don't want to have to resort to my partner's methods for a damn physiology report! Just answer the questions."

"Methods?"

"You don't want to know." The woman stated with deathly seriousness. The rogue Spartan could feel the grin of the male interrogator from across the table.

"…fine. I'll talk. I wasn't much of a talker, I kept to myself. The days before we were permanently assigned our fireteams have kind of blurred together but I remember some of the times. I was alone. It was lonely, boring a lot of time, I admit I was scared a lot too. At first it was like we were the Scouts as my dad had taught me all those years back except with notable differences that reminded me all the time why I was there. How to fire a rifle, how to clean a weapon, proper posture. Basic technique. Still scared me to think I would be on the frontlines soon. I was a loner and a face in the crowd, I didn't make friends and just as I wanted, everyone stayed away, though to tell the truth, there was barely any conversation. No one knew each other."

Dakota continued without looking up to face the woman's shadow, he simply talked. "As for my so-called love for Humanity. It doesn't exist, I just wanted to be a hero. Isn't that every kid's dream, especially the broken ones who grew up on the superhero movies that the video industry keeps producing. I kind of got into those after my parents died. The characters always reminded me of myself and I always wished for something extraordinary to happen… and it did. Though I think I've come to regret it now. I don't know…"

The woman listened and waited for him to finish before speaking. "So we got you're not much of a people person, you didn't fit in with the other Spartans. Plus the data from our personnel reports are false. Got it. What is your opinion of your team, Spatha Team?"

"It was the five of us. Our leader, Lucius. Mia, the silent medic. Shino, our trilingual marksman. Anita, my partner, the Crazy Bitch wicked with knifes. Then me, the Lone Wolf, the Scout, and usually the enemy's bait. I was the fastest runner in Gamma, no one could keep up, but according to our Old Man Ambrose, in one of those rare moments where I talked to him alone. He said he knew someone faster than me, kind of killed my pride. I never really liked him and he was never one to play favorites so I can't be sure of what he thought of me. All I can say is that he was likely a father to us. I didn't have to like him, but in the end I do see him as my father after the death of my parents."

"You didn't have much of a relationship beyond the professional acceptance of your trainer. Understood. Did you grow attached to any of the other trainers, the non-Spartans or the Beta Trainers?" The woman asked, her façade still standing tall.

"Lucy was nice, I don't think she ever understood what I was feeling but I tried my best to communicate. I don't think she ever said a word to me, somehow we communicated. I guess being silent can bring people together."

"What about Tom or some of the other trainers?"

"Didn't communicate with them as much as Lucy, probably on the same standing as Kurt."

"If you believe your relationship with your elders was strictly professional, why do you refer to them by their first names?"

"That was all I knew them by besides Ambrose and the supplementary trainers. Plus, it was Kurt's idea for the Company to act as one big family. He said we needed to learn to take care of each other, we weren't so much military as much as a sports team. Kurt was like the coach, Tom was the team captain, and Lucy was either the soccer mom or the team manager. Lucius was like our upper classman, they kept us coordinated and they led us as a team and family."

"You're a strange kid, you know that?"

"I got that a lot back then."

"You liked your trainers and your comrades, but you also disliked them…"

"I am a complicated person, give me a break!"

"Sure…" The professionalism of the interview had all but evaporated from the room. "Alright, I want to talk about your squadmates."

"Sure, which ones?"

"All of them. Start with Lucius."

"Lucius G128 was probably the most soldier-like of us. He was a born leader, Kenyan accent and a good talker. He was the goody two-shoes of our fireteam, he made sure no one played pranks on one another, he made sure everyone did their share of their chores, he made it so that we couldn't cheat on the exams which actually lowered our combat score to the lower half of the echelon."

"He held your team back, even as the leader."

"He was a good leader, but he was a stickler for the rules. He had the instructors up his ass almost all the time. Always on time, no oversleeping, always waking up 15 minutes early, was in love with perfection. Oh, and he accepted whatever punishment the team was assigned; he didn't care if it was stupid, if it wasn't our fault, if it was almost impossible. He always expected us to complete the mission but said to do it within our legal options, got us screwed a lot. It was his mentality that was what ultimately led to our low scores and sadly his untimely death."

"You don't sound like you have any remorse for him."

"I don't. The kid was good but we never got along, I just played along because I was saving my anger for the Covenant. They said killing aliens would be fun, they didn't lie."

"How about Mia and Shino?"

"Mia was near silent, some even assumed she was sick or something. Lucy was sick and broken, but yet she was a Spartan. I don't see why anyone would complain. I remember back during Boot Camp, she and Shino always had a thing. I know that Spartan augmentation accelerated puberty, but their relationship, whatever it was. Went beyond some chemical curiosity, it was a form of stability. The loudmouth in Shino did the talking for the two, the medic and the marksman."

"I would never rat them out about having a relationship, so the fact that I'm telling you this… well it wasn't attraction. Understand, their relationship was not love, it did not break regulation and it was certainly not sexual or heading in a dangerous direction. They were just two people who found comfort in each other's company, they never told us their life stories unlike me, Anita, and Lucius. I don't know their histories so I can't say what happened. I assume however, that they had privately talked sometime and found each other's predicament similar and decided that they could fight the galaxy together. It was platonic, but it was more than a sibling relationship. I would probably call it a little more than best friends."

"Shino was a loud mouth. He knew English, French, and Japanese. I think his language talent got so bad that he could speak all three languages at once and blur them together into a single incoherent language of his own. He would sometimes forget we all only knew English and he would start cursing simultaneously in Japanese and French. He loved his voice so very much, I don't think we could ever get him to shut up. He was also a crackshot, never missed a signal target inside 700 meters without a scope after augmentation. His best shot was probably a 2.5 kilometer body shot he pulled on a moving Elite. He burrowed an anti-material round between both the creature's hearts and kept going and got a headshot on the Grunt cannon fodder behind it."

"Anyhow, Shino and Mia were best buds, they never allowed each other out of their sites. There was never a reason to either. The latrines and barracks were all non-segregated until the augmentation phase. Good thing too. Some of the guys did things I don't want to discuss." Dakota spoke solemnly, a look of comical terror was seen on his face.

"What about Anita?" The female spook asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." The Spartan was quick to switch emotions.

"You agreed to talk."

"I'll talk about other things. Just don't ask me about her. I'd prefer if you asked me about it with her in the room. I don't feel comfortable talking about her behind her back."

"You just did about your other teammates. What makes her so special?" The male interrogator in the back asked with a sneer.

"Shut up. I said I don't want to talk about her. The other two won't see me as human anymore, Anita is the only one I have left in this world. Just leave it at that."

"Alright. How about your last mission for ONI, before you went AWOL and MIA?"

Dakota's eyes flashed dangerously. "You don't want me to talk about that."

"Why not?"

"I have my reasons; that and Anita are to remain off the report."

"No, you're going to tell us about it. Anita doesn't matter, the mission however does. I assume you know what your consequences were with your failure." The woman stated, she no longer wished to play nice it seemed.

"It was more than just a failure, it was desertion and treason." The male interrogator stated, this time without mocking the young man strapped in a metal chair.

"I was told to fight for Humanity, I did what I had to do."

"Many evil fucktards said the same thing, to do the right thing, to do what they had to do."

"Both of you shut it, I want this to be clear. Tell us what happened on Emerald Cove." The woman ordered.

Silence remained for several seconds before Dakota began, his last mission for ONI, one sinful beyond measure.

"It was three months before the Fall of Reach, alright? Back in April, I think it was on April 23, Earth standard when we were deployed. Back then I was with the Augmented Asymmetrical Warfare Specialists. The IIIs like to call ourselves "Headhunters" though when that one guy, A024 brought back the first Elite skull from a mission. That was three years before I was conscripted into the military."

"Emerald Cove was a seemingly abandoned world, no human presence since it was abandoned in '42. Somehow, the Covenant had become aware of the planet and its large water reserves. I heard that the planet once was a well-known tropical world, I'll admit it was beautiful but seeing Covenant carriers floating over large swaths of water had made me nervous back then. Our mission was to escort a Havok-class Tactical Nuclear Weapon to a planet side combat staging area. It took us about 10 hours of constant marching to reach the shallow bay the Covenant had established as their headquarters. It was an old rice patty farm overrun after the sea wall collapsed. Anita had the bomb and I acted as rearguard, I stayed behind her and watched for enemies within a kilo radius and found nothing."

"The deadline for the deployment was six hours from our time we reached the basin, however, within the half hour when we arrived. We were engaged by an unknown group using modern ballistic weaponry."

"Turns out we had been had by UNSC remnants on the planet, some twenty thousand refugees moved underground refusing to leave the colony and had been hiding and waiting for the Covenant arrival since 2542 when the Scorched Earth policy was ordered. Among them a good minority of 3000 or so Militia and UNSC Army who stayed on the planet still fighting an unconventional conflict against the aliens."

"What did you do then?" The woman continued to stare at Dakota intently.

"We were told to go dark when the mission started so communication with our handler was not possible. We decided that taking the risk of killing humans to eliminate a Covenant fleet was not in our interest. So, we improvised. Anita and I lead a small platoon of soldiers against the Covenant forces and attacked a landed cruiser away from the other warships. We stole several Pelicans from an abandoned UNSC fortress nearby and attempted to seize the cruiser."

"The improvisation was a success, but we lost a good portion of our platoon but we took the ship. We managed to save about three-quarters of the survivors before a Covenant carrier began to glass our position. Several thousand individuals were killed in the glassing so we sent the survivors on ahead. They made a blind jump, I don't know where they went but I know… believe they escaped from the Covenant."

"Our prowler that had deployed us had bugged out when the Covenant chatter network began to increase and left us behind on the planet so we were forced to complete the mission on our own… We deployed the nuclear weapon about 30 hours after our deadline and high tailed out of the area. I remember the behavior of the ONI Marines sent to detain us after the mission, they came ready to use deadly force, as if we had become a threat. Heavy weapons, automatic weapons, semi-powered armor, exoskeletons, and shielded drones. It was a massacre, they injured me badly but Anita managed to finish them off and steal the Stealth Pelican."

"We escaped aboard an old tug in the Space Port near New Barbados, the nuke had thrown the Covenant forces into hysteria and had left us to our own devices because of our small size. I believe we destroyed 12 capital warships, about a quarter of the fleet. Due to our unique situation, we also deployed a blind jump and retreated to dark space. I don't think I have to explain anymore, it kind of also helps to have a Dumb AI to fly the old ship."

The room had grown eerily silent again, no longer was the breathing a noticeable feature, it was as if everyone was holding their breath. Dakota really wasn't sure what to think when he had told his tale, he was utterly detached at this point. He felt like a robot or vampire, he didn't care what happened. It was over.

The tapping of the male interrogator's gloved arm suggested boredom or something much more sinister.

The rogue Spartan was starting to feel uncomfortable, the woman didn't seem to say anything and the man was looking even more like a possible adversary. He pushed against his restraints in desperation and yet again failed to break them.

"…You abandon your duty, stole military assets, you missed the primary target and you killed UNSC personnel, I should kill you know rather than let you rot in a cell." The woman spoke dangerously.

"Go ahead and try, I've escaped your forces plenty of times, it won't be a surprise when I get out of this one."

"Good luck with that, you're on a space station. How you going to break out of this one?"

"I'll manage, now anything else or does that conclude the interview?"

"You're done, the interviews over. Marines will arrive soon to escort you to the prison ship. May want to find a new faith because you'll be in there for the rest of your short life. This case is finished."

The woman clapped her hands twice and the blinding light was extinguished, the auxiliary lighting in the walls became alit like a hundred mechanical fireflies. The bodies of the two interrogators shocked the young Spartan III.

The woman was about 6'2'' and the man was about 6'8'', they were dressed in carbon fiber garments, similar to the under suits worn by almost all active services. They're bodies were ginormous and their builds matched that of professional athletes.

Spartans, they were Spartans.

The woman was European with blond hair and vibrant but harsh green eyes, her body was very muscular and toned under the skintight armor.

The man was of Turkish descent and held himself much like a soldier from a recruitment poster. Perfect body tone, a few distinctive combat scars, and a predatory gleam in his eye. He was just as toned as his female counterpart.

Each had an ancient Spartan helm patch sat on each of their right shoulders.

"What the hell?" Dakota asked with utter confusion.

"Oh you don't know? Your buddies have been replaced, we're the fourth gen, Spartan IVs." The man bragged with a near sadistic glee noticing the kid staring at the pair in shock. "Kids are too troublesome. Why make child soldiers when you can use vets with years of experience and training?"

"…"

"The brat has nothing to say for once, funny." The man laughed heartily. The woman ignored him and began tapping her data pad lazily.

"I'm calling in the response team, should be hear in ten mikes. Keep an eye on him, will you?" The woman asked her partner.

"Sure Meriwether, hurry back though, you know what happens when I get bored."

"I could care less, he's about dead now…"

"Spartan Meriwether, Spartan Locke, please report to Rear Admiral Goodwin's office immediately." An intercom boomed through the room.

"Damn and I thought I was going to get some coffee before I questioned the girl."

"Oh well, I'll keep an eye on him, don't worry I won't break him… too much." The male Spartan IV grinned predatorily.

The woman nodded once and walked out of the room.

The other agent, whatever his name was remained in the room and sternly glared down upon the renegade Spartan as if he were some petty child thief stealing bread from the bakery on 33rd street in Chicago.

"You escaped from ONI's watchful eye and begin a life as guns-for-hire on Venezia, it took an entire UNSC Taskforce to bring you in. I think the same respect you showed the men of TASKFORCE: LIGHTNING when we nicely knocked on the door."

"You smashed down the door and tried to kill us on sight, you guys have a funny sense of curtesy."

"Says the kid that killed over 40 soldiers, people with families and kids the same age when you were taken to Onyx." He said grimly and grit his teeth. "My brother was one of those casualties, an Army Ranger."

"Sorry to hear that but it's his fault for joining this messed up… corrupt institution."

"Liar! You piece of shit… are a part of a dead era, the Spartans are all gone. Like the age of Greece, they eventually evaporated into history. The Spartan IVs are the next generation, the better generation. We're Centurions. Like the Romans, we're the greatest fighting force that Humanity has ever seen. You're already dead, why don't you just make it easy for us."

"You don't think I'm human, I got—"

"You aren't human, you're laboratory experiments. You don't deserve to be treated equally. You're just our pets. Get over it, you'll never be human."

"Fuck you too, asshole."

"Yes, I know, I wish I was a turd pile, then I would also have a reason for being nothing but a little disposable shit." The Spartan said with anger. "You Spartans think you're heroes, you're nothing but monsters. You need to be put down."

"I guess we can agree on something then."

The Spartan grinned at Dakota and grabbed a metal chair and let it screech across the ground. He brought it up to Dakota's shackled chair.

"Nevada?"

An AI's feminine voice chimed in again. "Yes, Agent Roark?"

"Lock the door, the Marines can wait a little longer while I interrogate the prisoner."

"Yes sir, I understand, I'll contact Fireteam Gorgon that they are to return to standby mode."

"Thank you."

"You're no Spartans, you and your friends from Gamma Company, you're just a bunch of animals with your masters keeping you on short leashes, I remember reading your files; you had a bunch of chemicals pumped into you that varied from the original formula, something about increasing survival rates. You were once humans, now you're just a bunch of lab rats with a notorious ability to kill. Eventually the Spartan IIs and IIIs are going to die out, and starting with you, I think I might just make your ends a little quicker."

Dakota struggled against his restraints this time with true desperation, this guy was definitely crazy. He hadn't met a single person as crazy as this guy, he was a sadist with a sense of deluded reality.

"I wonder what it would take to break you, hmmm." He asked mockingly. "I read that you Headhunter folk shared special relationships with their partners. What would you do if I had a little fun with yours? Anita was it, what age is she? I think it was sixteen or seventeen, almost of age."

Dakota stopped struggling and simply stared at his captor. He held the gaze and his mind went blank with rage. So much blood seemed to be pumping his mind just shut down and he broke.

The Spartan IV just laughed at the antics of his junior.

"…I'm going to kill you…" Dakota said with anger.

"That's the spirit; one part brave, three parts fool."

Dakota growled angrily in an animalistic type of way, "Don't you dare touch her, asshole."

"What you going to do, you're going to be dead anyway."

Dakota nodded grinning manically back at the enraged Spartan IV. Two jokers in one room, lovely. This was quickly turning into a fight between psychopaths.

He moved his armed arm against the metal of the links and crushed a casing of lethal acid stored on the underside of his hard suit. His arm was now covered in slick, clear liquid that bubbled away at all the metal in the area. The paint job on his armor eroded away but the metal remained and the restraint quickly turned to mush.

This was a chemical he gained form Venezia, taken from some plotting con artists that he had killed for a job a while back. His SPI armor may have been damage by the chemical, but at least it was repairable and he was free. His outdated energy shield sprang to life.

Dakota reached for his bayonet on his left shoulder blade to find it missing along with his explosives, guns, and other weapons. His frantic search turned up nothing, they removed all his defenses.

A fist from below was narrowly dodged as Dakota frantically ducted another punch from the left side. Reaching into his back soft case container, the Spartan released from an inner pouch a smaller combat knife that sparked with electricity.

"Where'd you get that?" The bigger Spartan freaked at the sight of the blade quickly backing away.

The ONI Spartan IV quickly produced a stun baton and began to back toward the wall, a pistol sat on the table across table from Dakota.

They both noticed at once; Dakota jumped first racing across the table using his lighter weight to maneuver across the elevated surface. Roark flipped the table throwing the pistol and Dakota into the air revealing the IVs superior strength.

Roark grabbed the pistol quickly out of the air but quickly found a short-range Taser blade smash the pistol out of his arm and embedded the needle tips in the magazine cartridge. The Spartan IV reacted quickly grabbing the wires and ignored the minor electrical pulse coming from the nonlethal weapon and reeled in his adversary in.

The younger Spartan severed the link with his knife and tackled his adversary to the ground. The two grappled until Dakota gave up on trying to beat the man into submission. He took his shock knife and drove it deep into the older Spartan's shoulder and embedded it under the bone.

Roark screamed in pain as the electricity hit him suddenly as he attempted to pull out the blade. He failed as the pain became unbearable and he collapsed to the ground in desperation as he fought through the pain. After five seconds the electricity dulled and the blade sputtered under the pressure. It broke and Roark pulled it out of his arm.

He coughed and looked up, his eyes swimming as he made out the form of the Spartan III Headhunter known as Dakota.

"Now that we've ended this interrogation, it's my turn to be the interrogator." Dakota grabbed the stun baton and smacked against his gloved arm. A series of sparks were audible against the metallic armor.

"First question. Where's Anita?"

"Fuck off."

"So be it the hard way."

Dakota took the baton and smashed it into Roark's forehead and the said Spartan yelled in agony.

"Wrong answer, try again."

The Spartan IV looked up at the Monster standing in front of him and simply spit on him.

The little demon moved in once again and shocked him.

"You still think me a monster? I need these answers so you better start talking or I'll show you what a real monster looks like."

Roark looked up once again and this time he gave his situation some real thought, he then spoke with difficulty, his mouth feeling numb.

…


	2. AN

Hey guys. This is Riptide.

I've reached a point I've been considering for sometime now about the number of my stories I've written on this site.

Halo was what seriously got me into writing Fanfiction after a series of mediocre attempts at Pokemon fan fiction.

I wrote the Halo-Star War crossover, On the Frontline. I wrote a Halo-Mass Effect crossover that was eventually replaced and became the defunct Beyond Contact.

I wrote a number of Halo poetry fanfics: Rampancy, Memoir of 117, and Two Tales.

I considered a lot of Halo side stories that would focus on OCs and more obscure characters of Halo. That was what became Monster, I Am.

I've written too many Halo fics and in recent times, I haven't been able to actually get back to those projects and its been bothering myself for sometime about abandoned projects like an annoying itch that refuses to leave me alone.

I got to get this done and I'm doing it now.

I'm going to start a mass exodus of my stories. I will keep the ones I want to maintain for now and future interest. I've got plans for my major projects but the other stories need to be addressed. I don't feel satisfied with my behavior to my smaller stories.

While my poetry has satisfied me, my one shots have not.

I'm consolidating all my Halo oneshots guys, its the only way for me to make room for the projects I want to get done. This is less a destruction and more of a clean up. I will come back to my other fics and figure out what to do with them but the one shots are being moved. I've left a warning in the description.

All the stories are being moved into the main body of Memoir of 117 and its name will be changed pending this posting on all the Halo fanfics I've written that will be moved.

I refuse to touch Beyond Contact and Rainforest Wars though. Those stories are either being written right now or in a hiatus and I will get to them when I do.

I have so many ideas that I don't know when I will get to and the date of going to college is fast approaching and I want to get my work out before I find that real life will make it near impossible to think about side projects or being able to write at all.

There were stories I've wanted to write for a long time including a reaction by the Council in Mass Effect to the end of Halo 4 as a supposed epilogue of Beyond Contact. I wanted to write a three-part poetry piece that told the story of Reach's end. I wanted to write stories about Blue Team and Gamma Company. I've been reading a lot into the different universes of Halo Fanon and the expanse of their worlds have been making me drag my feet through the mud in the envy I have for them.

I don't have the energy to pump work out for Halo as I use to sadly as I've been focusing more on writing modern military fiction in the anime section which I'm unsure any of you follow: SAO and GATE.

If any of the followers of these one shots are still interested in the stories I've written and still interested in being able to find them. I would suggest you go favorite or follow Memoir of 117 because that is the future home of all my oneshots.

I also plan to start deleting some of the smaller, less interesting stories I have.

Essentially, I'm beginning a clean up phase so if you still like to hold on to my old material for Halo oneshots, please follow or favorite Memoir of 117 soon. I'll try to get new material in there soon. This AN will come down within the next week and the new chapters on Memoir will start to appear there.


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